


Fortune Cookie Says

by CheekyTorah



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fortune Cookies, Friendship, Get Together, Gift Fic, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Paper Crane, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, magical fortune cookies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22165189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheekyTorah/pseuds/CheekyTorah
Summary: Harry’s fortunes are trying to tell him something...
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 46
Kudos: 349





	Fortune Cookie Says

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gnarf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnarf/gifts).



> This is a gift fic for the lovely Gnarf.
> 
> Thank you to EvAEleanor and KeyFlight790 for the Beta!!!

_ Work with what you have. _

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Hermione grumbled, tossing the slip of paper onto her empty plate and huffing in frustration.

“Well, mine is hopeful!” Ron said with a grin and showed Harry his fortune.

_ Respect your elders. You could inherit a large sum of money. _

“Honestly, Ron,” Hermione glared at him. “Money isn’t everything!”

Harry snickered behind his hand as he watched his two best mates arguing over the hierarchy of importance where fortunes were concerned.

“It’s not like there is any validity behind such nonsense,” Hermione snapped as she pulled the receipt for their meal towards herself. She counted out Galleons and slipped them into the tray.

Harry loved coming here; the chinese buffet, his closest friends and of course, enjoying their married couple banter — quite like their banter as teenagers except for the fond smile Hermione would have and the chaste kiss Ron would give. 

“You’re wrong, ‘Mione,” Ron said around the cookies in his mouth. Harry grimaced at the sight; Ron could really be a pig sometimes. “My Dad asked mum to marry him because of a wizarding fortune cookie. And she knew it was going to happen because of one too.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Hermione turned to Harry. “What's yours say, Harry?”

_ Your smile lights up someone else's day. _

“That’s not really a fortune.” Ron pulled the paper away from Harry and scowled at it. “You’re the Chosen One, you walking into a room makes even old biddies knickers wet, I’m sure lots of people like your smile.”

“That’s disgusting,” Harry laughed and then stared again at his fortune in Ron’s hand. “Are these real?”

“It’s run by a really old chinese Pureblood traditional wixen family,” Hermione said quietly. “Everyone talks about how their fortunes are always coming true, or how the advice or well wishes always make their days better.”

“It’s true!” Ron’s eyes brightened. “Bill was here when he saw Fleur for the first time! She was walking to Gringotts that summer they worked together. He said he opened the cookie and it said _ Look up, your future awaits.  _ And when he looked up he was staring at the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.”

“So cheezy,” Hermione laughed but her face had softened considerably.

Ron babbled on about other members of his obscenely large family and their experiences at the restaurant. It seemed there was a story for everyone. Harry decided he had to ask some of his friends in the DMLE if they, too, had been to the buffet.

Harry took the fortune back and slipped it into his breast pocket for safe keeping. Something felt right about holding onto it. He smiled as he patted the pocket and tossed his own money down to pay for his own food. The bell clanged over their heads as the three friends left the restaurant and made their way back towards the Ministry through the snow. Soon, it would be Christmas Hols and Teddy would be visiting from Hogwarts for two whole weeks. Harry really missed him since he had started school. 

Harry liked the idea of the fortune cookies’ power, leading people to the future they were meant to have, encouraging people and bringing joy. Even if it wasn’t real, Harry felt happier at the thought that there was someone out there who was so influenced by his smile.

When he was finally back at his desk, watching other Aurors and desk clerks milling about the office outside his window, he considered his fortune again. He was 28 years old, probably too old for fortune-telling rubbish, but here he subsisted with the obsessive curiosity of who his fortune had possibly indicated. Harry wasn’t lonely per se, but he definitely wouldn’t mind the comfort of a boyfriend or even an eventual spouse to spend his life with. Would he find them on his own? Could another fortune help him?

Hermione would likely badger him for it, but he owled Ron and made a plan to go back the next day. He figured, when it comes to love, he needed all the help he could get. 

A knock came to the door and Harry looked up to see Draco Malfoy standing awkwardly in his doorway.

“Draco! Hi!” Harry smiled and shuffled a few papers nervously. “Erm, what can I do for you?”

“I have a file for you, it’s a cold case, but some new evidence has been discovered and-” Draco paused to clear his throat and looked around, a slightly pained look to his usual calm swept over his features. “You need to see it.”

Harry frowned and took the file glancing over it.  _ Malfoy, Lucius _ was printed at the top. Harry sighed and nodded at Draco. 

“I will get right on this,” Harry said solemnly. “Draco, I’m—I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Potter,” Draco sighed. “We all know what an utter bastard he was. Whatever happened, I’ve no doubt he had it coming.”

”Don’t. He was your father,” Harry looked Draco in the eyes and smiled sadly. “No matter what he did, he was still your father.”

Draco nodded and left without saying a word. Harry absolutely didn’t watch his arse as he walked away. Because  _ that _ would be inappropriate.

*~*~*~*

”Ronald, do you seriously never stop eating?”

Ron grinned around a mouth full of Cantonese noodles then continued his devouring. Hermione looked disgusted with her husband before turning to Harry.

“So it was her father, the girl who Lucius—”

“AK’d? Yes.” Harry frowned at his plate. He hated dealing with cases that involved the death of a child. 

Lucius had used the killing curse on a half blood girl, Melany Charleston. Her father, in retaliation, had tracked Lucius down in Wales and murdered him. Brutally. Not that he didn’t blame the man for his revenge, but the law stated that the Auror division was to issue a warrant for his arrest. The whole thing left a sour taste in Harry’s mouth. 

Harry had left work early that day after assigning the case to a few junior Aurors and camped out in Hermione's office for the rest of the afternoon. 

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione said quietly. She rested her hand on his arm and gave him a sympathetic look. “Does Draco know?”

“He knows, he’s the one who brought it to me. Did he not come back to the office after?”

“No, he finished analyzing the evidence that came in and went straight to you. I didn’t even know what he was working on. Kept it very hush hush,” she frowned. “For obvious reasons.”

Hermione bit her lip. “Was he alright when you saw him?”

Hermione and Draco had been partners in the Department of Mysteries for the past three years. Evidence analysis was one of the many things that went on down there, and one of the very few that Harry was even privy to.

It wasn’t surprising that Hermione worried about Draco, they had grown close working together. They had an interesting friendship, tentative at first but slowly even Ron had warmed to the smarmy bastard. 

Soon the cheque arrived along with their three fortunes. Harry picked his first. 

_ Fall for someone who is not your type. _

Well, that was entirely unhelpful. How was he supposed to know what his type was, when he hadn’t even pulled in years, let alone go out on a date? Harry sighed. 

“Do I have a type?”

Hermione, in the middle of breaking open her own cookie, looked at Harry, startled. Ron grinned.

“Red heads!” He barked with laughter.

Harry glared at him.

“Well, you tend to enjoy someone who enjoys the same things as you, Quidditch for one.” Hermione said slowly. “I always thought you’d be suited to someone a bit more—”

She paused, chewing her lip uncertainly.

“More?” Harry asked.

“Someone who’d call you on your shit mate, like ‘Mione does for me.” Ron smiled fondly at her. “Ginny let you get away with too much.”

“Ginny was also female, Ronald, or have you conveniently forgotten that Harry is gay?”

“Hey, I’m fully supportive, even was cool with him dumping Ginny for Charlie six or so years ago. If that’s not supportive then-”

Harry sighed, “What did you get, Hermione?”

_ Don't wait for success to come - go find it! _

Hermione was very quiet after she handed hers to Harry to inspect. Like there was some secret she was contemplating in silence. 

“Well, mine’s pretty much the truest thing I’ve ever seen:  _ Learn from your mistakes. Try not to make them again.”  _ Ron threw it on his plate with a huff.

“Yes, quite the good advice there, honey,” Hermione smirked and they all laughed.

~*~*~*~*~

  
  


_ Fall for someone who is not your type. _

Did Harry have a type? Charlie seemed to think so, accusing Harry of only being with him out of some need to feel safe. He supposed that the Weasleys were the first people to make him feel cared for, safe, loved. Maybe he had fallen back on an old familiar feeling. Charlie has picked up on their lack of compatibility quickly. He claimed he needed more fire and was surprised at Harry’s inability to provide that. 

Fire. Harry’s thoughts dragged to Draco Malfoy, the one bloke in Harry’s entire life who had always managed to get under his skin. Not in an entire displeasing way, but it was unsettling to say the least. Draco always found a way to rub Harry the wrong way growing up, but their caustic taunts and physical violence had simmered to dry banter, sly smiles and—something else.

Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair. He looked around his bedroom, the empty spaces someone could easily fill with their posh outfits, their stupid pricey trinkets and—Merlin. What he needed was a good rest, and strong coffee in the morning. Ignoring the fact that it was half three am already, and the fact that he was going to be exhausted already, Harry pulled parchment out of his end table. He scrawled a quick letter, folded it into a little plane, and shot it into the Floo. A harsh whisper of Malfoy Manors Floo address hanging in the anxious air.

He was certain Malfoy would be asleep, but as he was about to  _ Nox _ the lights, his Floo burst green and an intricately folded—was that a crane?—paper fluttered through the air and landed on Harry’s lap. He suppressed the need to laugh loudly, only letting a few low chuckles escape his lips. Of course, it was a bloody crane.

_ Potter, _

_ I will gladly meet you for lunch tomorrow, but the location was most—surprising. I’m shocked your plebeian lifestyle allows such a tasteful palette. I will see you there.  _

_ D.M _

  1. _Don’t be late, I refuse to wait for you._



Harry smiles to himself as he slipped the crane in to his bedside drawer with the two fortunes he had obtained this week and settled under his covers. 

_ Nox. _

When Harry arrived to the restaurant Draco, of course, was already there. Punctual, and always looked like a million Galleons. Harry rubbed the back of his neck and sat down.

“Not waiting too long?”

“No, Potter, I only just arrived,” Draco said politely. 

With a swish of Draco's wand their plates floated across the restaurant, began filling with various foods and then floated back to his own seat. 

They enjoyed an easy conversation, and Harry would have been surprised if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew already how pleasant Draco could actually be. There was their usual quips and taunts, softened after years post-war, and Harry found himself laughing more often than not. He was happy. Draco looked happy. He felt a charge whenever he looked into Draco’s eyes. Had that always been there, just below the surface just—waiting?

  
  


By the end of their meal, Harry was relaxed and completely at ease with Draco. Harry watched his long fingers as he expressed himself in conversation, admired the dip of his neck and the points of his collarbone that he could just see under the open collar of his shirt. 

When the cookies were placed before then Harry was suddenly nervous. What would this fortune say? 

_ True happiness makes us wise. _

But there was a second sheet under his first fortune. A double fortune?

“That’s very lucky you know,” Draco said with a pointed look at Harry’s hands which held the two slips of paper. “Double fortunes almost never happen.”

_ Trust your gut feeling. _

“What does your say?” Harry asked, though his mind was whirling. His gut was saying to trust this, trust Draco, trust whatever he felt between them. To do something about it. That it was worth everything. Just being around Draco felt right. When the hell did that happen? Why hadn’t he noticed it before?

Draco smirked and raised his brow.

“You sure you want to know, Potter?”

Harry nodded and Draco pushed the paper into his hands and looked away, a heavy blush covering his pale skin. 

_ Tell him you like his smile. _

Fin.

  
  
  



End file.
